


Who You Really Are

by 221bean



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Sherlolly - Freeform, Victorian Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221bean/pseuds/221bean
Summary: Originally posted on FanFiction.net in 2017. A Victorian Sherlolly fic. Molly Hooper never expected that Holmes knew she is a woman, much less that they would end up alone together in his flat. A bit smutty ;).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing but the story. All characters belong to Gatiss, Moffat, and Conan Doyle. Leave me a review or kudos if you enjoy!

Molly Hooper liked to pretend Sherlock Holmes was an utter annoyance and a pain in her arse- which he was, and not a startlingly intelligent man with strikingly good looks. Holmes would sit in the morgue for hours studying bodies of murder victims, only talking to Hooper when strictly necessary, but lately, it had been different. Holmes was intently gazing through a magnifying glass, focusing on the victim's right big toe. Molly gazed at him as he worked, the way his slicked hair had slowly begun to fall into unruly curls that kissed the nape of his neck, the way his eyes flicked back and forth, searching for invisible answers. She lost herself in him and didn't notice when he glanced up, only to realize his colleague was staring directly at him. He cleared his throat to speak.

"Hooper?" Molly startled and looked down at the floor shamefully. She itched at her mustache and took a deep breath to center herself.

"Hmmmm?"

"Is there something you would like to tell me?" Sherlock took a stepped away from the table and closer to her. There was something hot in his gaze and Molly struggled not to squirm under it. Sherlock put one hand on the lab table she was leaning against, effectively cornering her. She pulled herself tall and looked him right in the eye.

"I- no. No Mr. Holmes." He smirked down at the little pathologist.

"Well, in that case, Hooper, I have something I would very much like to ask you." Molly gulped but didn't shy away. Her heart was racing in her chest- he was so close now that she could smell him; a strongly masculine scent of tobacco, sandalwood, leather, and vanilla.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Molly's mind raced a mile a minute. She was dressed like a man! Was he a homosexual? Should she tell him? Would he turn her in? But most of all she could think was that she wanted more than anything in that moment to pull him down to her and kiss him. Molly knew she could not really go to dinner with the man. People would talk- Famous Detective Sherlock Holmes Spotted Out With To Dinner With A Man? The Reichenbach Hero- Homosexual?

"Listen, Hol-"

"Please. Call me Sherlock."

"Sherlock. I- I can't go to dinner with you. I'm not who you think I am." Sherlock took another step into her and lifted his hand to her cheek. His beautiful eyes held a passionate intensity- as if he gazed into her soul.

"I know exactly who you are Molly Hooper." Before Molly could gasp in surprise at the use of her real name, Sherlock pressed his mouth to hers and she was lost in him. His lips moved against her's and she reached up to curl her fingers in his hair. He wrapped his large hands around the back of her thighs and he lifted her up, sitting her down on the counter. She pulled away momentarily to gasp at the cold metal under her, giving him just enough time to peel her mustache away from her lip. Sherlock pushed her thighs apart and placed himself between her legs, grinding himself against her center. She moaned, feeling his now obvious erection giving her the slightest bit of friction, but not enough. Molly slid her hands around his waist, releasing his shirt from his trousers to feel the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. She scraped her nails down his back and relished the deep growl it drew from him, but as she undid the first button of his shirt he pulled away.

"Molly. Please." He panted. He re-fastened his coat and smoothed back his hair. Sherlock traced Molly's reddened lips, appreciating his handiwork. "Meet me at the Italian restaurant on Regent Street. Eight o'clock." He winked and left the room with a flourish of his coat and without looking back, leaving Molly completely bewildered.


	2. Chapter 2

Molly Hooper pulled off her wig and collapsed onto the settee, exhaling deeply. What the hell just happened? She thought. Molly stretched her arms above her head, attempting to release some of the tension from her shoulders. She imagined Sherlock was the one holding her hands above her head, kissing and biting his way down her body. She felt a warm flush of arousal in her stomach just thinking about what he could do to her.

She needed to focus. Was she really going to meet him for dinner? She knew the answer instantly of course- yes. If she was going to do this though, she was going to need to look the part. Her usual mustache-clad self was not exactly the look she was going for.

Two hours later Molly found herself lacing a tight bodice that pushed up her breasts and accentuated her delicate figure. She pulled the black lace stockings up her thighs and applied a kiss of light pink to her lips, complementing the deep blue of her dress. She was ready.

Molly had not been out in public as a woman in months. It felt strange walking down the dimly lit street to the restaurant, being eyed-up by men as they assessed her worth. About a block away, she began to feel as though the man behind her was following her, watching her. She heard his footsteps echo in the evening air as he closed in on her. Closer and closer. Molly quickened her pace, hearing her heart beating in her head. She turned a corner and bumped square into a large figure. The man sneered down at her through a thick, gristly beard.

"Well aren't you a pretty one?" He said as she backed away, feeling a hand on her back from the fellow who had been following her. Shorter and thin, he let a lock of her hair slip through his fingers. Molly's skin crawled from his touch.

"She is, isn't she?" both men chuckled. "Where were you going in such a hurry, doll?" Molly gulped back a whimper.

"To dinner." She murmured. Both men looked at each other and smirked. Before Molly could even blink, she was pinned up against the cold brick wall face first, arms held behind her back. She gasped at the rough treatment and felt blood pooling under her brow.

"You sure about that, beautiful?" She stifled a sob and tried to call out, but the larger of the two men clapped his hand over her mouth. "No, I think you're gonna have some fun with us tonight." Molly bit down hard on the man's hand, tasting the metal tang of blood as it filled her mouth.

"Bitch!" He yelled and dropped his bloodied hand to his side, using the other to slap her across the face. Just as he was about to smack her again, Molly heard a loud throat clearing sound originate from behind her assailant, who turned to meet the figure in the shadows.

"I believe that is my date." Molly recognized the deep, silky voice instantly. Holmes!

Sherlock swung at the man, his fist landing square in her attacker's face, and he fell to the pavement. The other foe struck Molly, her head hitting the brick, and she slid down the wall, the corners of her vision going fuzzy.

The last thing she saw was the man before her fall to the ground and Sherlock picking her up in his arms.

Molly awoke to Holmes standing over her, dabbing at the wound on her forehead with a wet cloth. She moaned, bringing her hand up to her head.

"Shhhhh Hooper. How do you feel?" Sherlock removed the cloth and smoothed a damp lock away from her face.

"Where are we, Holmes?"

"My flat." Molly glanced around. Books and various papers were scattered across every surface. Various knick-knacks and photographs littered his shelves and mantelpiece, which also adorned a knife, stabbed through a pile of yellowing letters. It was utter chaos but in the most warm and endearing way.

"You took me to your flat?"

"Yep. I don't make it a habit to bring women home so soon though." He joked. Molly smiled.

"Thank you, Sherlock." She said. "For saving me." She lifted her hand up to his face and ran her thumb across his cheekbone. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, studying each other's faces, and Sherlock smiled.

"Anytime."

"How did you know that I was faking? My real name?" Molly asked. He sat down at her feet and put a warm hand on her knee.

"I am the world's only consulting detective. I can deduce what a woman- even of your talent and intelligence- would need to do to succeed in a man's world. Although I don't think that fake mustache of yours is fooling anyone." He smirked and Molly gave him a light punch on the shoulder.

Feeling sticky and still tasting blood she considered how wonderful it would feel to bathe, but she was in no state to go home, especially not this late at night. As if he could read her mind, Sherlock said

"You can use my bath if you would like." Molly blushed as Sherlock got up and held out his hand to her.

"Are you sure? I really should just go home…"

"Nonsense." Molly took his hand and he helped her up. As soon as she stood, the darkness came back to the corners of her eyes and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She reached out for him to steady herself, but he pulled her towards him. She leaned against Sherlock's firm chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, balancing her. His smell once again encompassed her, and she looked up at him bashfully.

Sherlock could feel her pulse against his body, her dilated pupils as she looked into his eyes. He followed her little nose down to those perfect, pink lips. He felt himself reacting to her proximity, and he pushed himself away.

"Hmmm. Well then…" He cleared his throat. "I'll just… get that bath ready for you." Then he stalked off towards the bathroom, leaving Molly a blushing mess behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Molly eased herself into the warm water, letting it engulf her whole body and overwhelm her senses. She could hear Sherlock in the other room playing somber notes on the violin. She strained to hear the blissful melody, but it was nothing she recognized. Molly let the thoughts of him drift in and out, along with his music.

She thought of all the time he must have used the deep, clawed tub. His naked body, wet and slender in the heat of the water. What it would be like to be in there with him! Slotted between his thighs, her back against his chest. His ebony curls tickling her as he placed kisses up her neck. She found herself moaning with the thought of feeling his erection, hot and firm against her arse.

"Molly?" She was pulled out of her reverie by his voice floating under the door. "Are you uh… okay?"

Oh God! Molly thought. He fucking heard me. She quickly grabbed a towel off the back of the door and wrapped her dripping body in it. She opened the door to find Sherlock leaning against the doorway, inches from her. He glanced down her, admiring the newly exposed skin and her gentle curves. He cleared his throat and looked back to her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock watched as a bright red blush washed over her cheeks and down her chest, and he longed to follow its path past the blocking of her towel.

"Yes… I- uh…" Molly stared at the man, her mouth agape, fishing for words. No words came, but rather an idea she hoped would make up for them.

Molly grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her, their mouths meeting in a frantic passion. He let his hands fall to the small of her back and she let her arms go up to his hair, wrapping around his neck. Sherlock sucked her lower lip into his mouth, and when he released it, he licked the seam of her lips, requesting the entrance of his tongue. She opened to him and he explored her wet heat. She moaned into his mouth and the vibrations went straight to his core.

Molly pulled back for a breath, and Sherlock wasted no time at all in kissing and nipping up her neck, making her moan and squirm. He took her earlobe into his mouth and gave it a gentle tug as she pulled lightly on his hair, eliciting a deep groan from him.

"Molly" His voice was deep and raspy, and Molly felt a rush of wetness at the sound of her name on his lips. She pulled him closer, feeling his erection against her thigh. He slipped one of his hands down to the edge of her towel and she sighed as he gripped her bare arse- so close to where she wanted him, but not close enough. She bucked up against him, trying to edge him closer to her center.

"Please. Sherlock." She begged him. He obliged, slipping a digit to her clit. He began to make slow circles and she let out a gasp. Molly began to move her hips with his movements, begging for more. He slid two fingers inside her and began to curl them, and thrusting in and out.

"Mmmmh. You're so wet for me Molly. What do you need to make you cum?"

"You." At this Sherlock picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He dove for her mouth, swirling his tongue lightly around her's. She raked her fingers through his hair as they kissed, bringing one hand down to cup his erection.

"Oh God, Molly!" Sherlock took off to his bedroom with her in his arms. He threw her on the bed and began to strip off his shirt.

"No please, let me." Molly crawled to the edge of the bed and began to unbutton his shirt as slowly as possible- teasing him. When she reached the last button, she pulled the garment from his trousers, leaning back to appreciate his newly exposed chest.

It was firm and muscular, yet lean she noticed, as she let her hands trail up his abdomen, up towards his shoulders to free him from the sleeves. Molly refocused to his trousers, pulling them down and releasing his cock. Molly's eyes widened. He was large, to say the least, and she longed to have him inside her. She began to kiss up his inner thigh, nipping and sucking. Marking him. She looked up at Sherlock with mischievous eyes, and he raised an eyebrow at her until she grasped him with her little hand.

He watched in fascination as she reached out her tongue, swirling it around the tip, tasting him.

"Molly. You really don't have to-"

"Shhhhhh. But I want to" She took him deep into her mouth and he groaned in pleasure as she scraped lightly with her teeth. Molly groaned against him, sending shivers up his spine. He reached for her hair, rocking into her just the tiniest bit. Setting a slow pace, Molly gripped the base of his cock, pumping him and she continued taking him in and out of her mouth, never losing eye-contact

"Molly, your mouth is so fucking perfect. You're too good at this. But I want to come inside you first."

At this, she drew back and smirked up at him. Sherlock gestured for her to move back on the bed, and she lay down, waiting for him. He pulled off her towel with a flourish and devoured her body with his gaze.

"Mmmmm. Magnificent. The things I want to do to you, Molly…" He ran his hands up her sides, stopping at her breasts. He gripped one in his hand, loving how well it fit in his palm. He took the other in his mouth, sucking and biting at her nipple. Molly moaned and arched up into his mouth.

"So responsive, Molly."

He pulled one of her knees up to his shoulder and began to place feather-light kisses up the inside of her thighs, placing one right on her clit. He sucked at the sensitive bud and took a deep inhale. She squirmed and reached for his hair once again, settled between her legs, but he put his hands on her hips to steady her.

Sherlock began to lightly pinch her clit, moving his mouth lower, licking as he went. When he reached her center, Molly pulled him to her, needing more pressure, more of him. He began to flick his tongue inside her.

"Oh God, just like that, Sherlock. You're gonna make me cum!" Molly began to rock against him, shamelessly grinding herself on his face. He was drinking her, lapping up her wetness. He felt her tighten around him, and ecstasy washed over her and flooded to her core. She screamed his name and writhed on the bed as she rode out her orgasm.

Sherlock waited for her to finish, then began leaving open-mouthed kisses up her thighs. She painted and arched up to meet him. He began kissing and sucking up her stomach, licking her breasts.

"Please. I need you inside me." Molly begged.

"Patience." He replied brusquely. He bit down on her nipple, sending her into a string of inaudible moans. He came back to her mouth again and they collided in a passionate kiss.

Though she was small, Molly managed to flip him over and straddle his hips without releasing his mouth. She reached between his legs and grabbed his leaking member, leading it towards her heat. Molly impaled herself on him.

She had never felt so filled before. She let herself get used to the fullness as she stretched around his twitching member. Slowly, she began to rock against him, encouraging him to thrust up into her, hitting all the right places. She began to ride him, grinding and bouncing on him, slowly at first, then quicker.

His name was on her lips, and he relished hearing it in her sultry tone. He watched her breasts bounce above him and reached up to palm one. She looked beautiful, hypnotizing.

"I want you to come for me, Molly. You feel so good." His voice was all she needed, and Sherlock felt her tighten around him, pulling his orgasm from him. He thrust up into her as deep as he could and they came together, shouting each other's names, riding out their orgasms.

They laid on top of each other, just relishing the feel of the connection. He wrapped his arm around her back and nestled his face in her hair. Sherlock listened to her racing heartbeat begin to slow.

"Molly, why not just work for me? You won't have to wear that ridiculous mustache- or actually anything, as I find that's how I prefer you…" He trailed off. "And I am always in need of a pathologist." They laid in silence for a while, then Molly brought her hands under her chin to gaze into his intensely blue eyes. She gave him a huge grin.

"I'll think about it." with that, she dove in for another kiss- this time slower and more sentimental.

She ended it with a peck on his nose.

Molly went to the bathroom to clean herself up, feeling deeply satisfied with the woman in the mirror. Hair tousled and hanging around her shoulders in loose ringlets, his marks on her neck and chest. She searched for something to wear but found her clothes were awol, so settled on Sherlock's deep blue dressing gown. Feeling a tad self-conscious, she padded back to the bedroom, but her fears were soon abandoned when she saw him.

Sherlock lay still fully naked on his bed, covered only by a pillow, and propped up on his elbow. He eyed her up.

"Hmmmm. Seeing you in that, I might need to take you again." He smirked, and she crawled into his lap to meet him.

"Well then, should I take it off?"


End file.
